


Attack, Body, Decay.

by orphan_account



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Babyjolras, Boys Kissing, Consensual Underage Sex, F/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-11
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-29 03:34:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>enjolras has piano lessons from a familiar face....father is not happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Attack, Body, Decay.

**Author's Note:**

> hey so yes enjolras' father abuses him and yes the boys find out i rlly dont know yet how they figure it out so

"Darling."

His mother's voice is soft, making the young boy look up from his half eaten cereal. He wipes his lips, "Uh, yes, Mother?"

Her painted fingernail scrapes away some of the smeared lipstick on his skin before she replies. "Enjolras, darling, you have a piano lesson after school."

Enjolras scowls and looks back down at his cereal bowl.

This is when his father lowers his newspaper to look at his son. "Did you hear your mother?"

The small boy tenses. "Ah...yessir."

"Respond." His voice is cold and Enjolras doesn't bring himself to look him in the eye. 

"Um. Yes, ma'am. Piano."

"That means no going off...wherever the hell you go after school, boy." His father says, straightening out his newspaper with the flick of his wrists.

"But, Father, I have study gr--"

"You have piano lessons. You will be there." His father snaps. 

Enjolras looks down to his lap. "Yessir. Sorry, sir. I'll be there." 

Enjolras doesn't see his father look back to his newspaper, but he's staring at the words when Enjolras leaves for school.

 

**Can't come over. E**

**aww... :( y? R**

**Piano lessons. E**

**oh cool see u tomorrow then R**

**I love you. E**

**i love you more :) R**

 

Enjolras sighs and stuffs his phone in his pocket, grumbling as he walks to school, a cloud of grief and anger hanging over him. He doesn't get to see them today. He hadn't gotten to see Bahorel, Feuilly, or Grantaire all weekend. 

Not fair.

But Father would beat him if he wasn't there for his lesson.

Enjolras shakes that thought away. 

At the end of the day, Enjolras trudges home. He takes off his shoes and his blazer, going into the kitchen to get a glass of orange juice. He rolls up his sleeves, listening to the piano playing in the other room.

"Mother," he says, entering the study with the Grand Master piano. He freezes.

A brilliant head of blazing red hair is in view.

He drops his cup.

Feuilly turns around and his eyes go wide.

"Oh, darling," Enjolras' mother tuts. "I'll go find the maid." 

Enjolras carefully steps over the glass once his mother has disappeared.

"Enjolras." Feuilly breathes.

"What are you doing here?" He hisses.

Feuilly's face is pale. "I'm your piano teacher, kiddo."

Enjolras' small hand wraps around the nice, clean tie. "This is Bahorel's." He says softly, not looking up at Feuilly.

"Yes. It is." His voice is just as quiet.

Enjolras peeks up at him, smiling slightly. He tugs on his tie and pulls him into a kiss. 

Feuilly makes a soft sound and cups his cheeks.

They break away when they hear footsteps down the hall.

"I'm sorry, Mother." Enjolras says. "Could you...not tell Father?"

Her expression is soft as she watches the maid sweep up the glass and another swoop in to mop. "Alright, darling. We'll keep this between you and I." 

"Thank you." Enjolras smiles a bit, looking to his mother.

Her lips press to his forehead and she's off.

"Do you know your scales?" Feuilly asks, quiet. 

Enjolras places his hands on the ivory keys and starts his scales for Feuilly. His fingers slip after he tries to go too fast and Feuilly wraps an arm around his shoulders to ghost his hands and help him. 

"Have you played before?" Feuilly whispers.

"Yes. I started lessons last year."

"You've had recitals, then?"

"Yes."

"Play me something, I just want to see how far you are." 

Enjolras nods and gets up, going over to the cabinet with his music books. He opens it up and places it on the piano, sliding in on the bench. 

"Piano Sonata No. 14 in C-Sharp Minor." Feuilly reads, nodding. He looks to Enjolras, smiling. "Moonlight Sonata. Ludwig van Beethoven."

Enjolras smiles back.

"Alright, go ahead."

Enjolras plays. He thinks about the notes and the sounds. Each inked notes is his life, the attack first, the body, the decay. Every event ends eventually. 

He plays about a boy in love. He plays about a boy who says his prayers quieter and quieter every night after having lips pressed to his neck and stubble scratch his skin. He plays about the fear of a boy who knows the sting of his father's hand too well.

Enjolras realizes he's done when he hears Feuilly's quiet clapping. "Not bad, kiddo."

His lips tug up into a smile at the praise. 

"You were a little off at one point though." Feuilly reaches forward and plays without even looking at the book. 

Enjolras tries to copy what he does but it still a beat off. 

Feuilly shows him again, and this is when Enjolras leans up and kisses him, hard. A groan escapes Feuilly as Enjolras' hand grips his tie tight. 

They pant into each other's mouth and Enjolras pushes closer, licking at his lips.

"Enjolras..."

"Feuilly, please."

"Enjolras, we're going to get in trouble, baby. They'll take you away from me and Bahorel and Grantaire." 

Enjolras' bottom lip trembles. "They can't do that. I love you."

"I love you, too. We all do." Feuilly kisses him again. He bites his lip, thinking. "You and I will need to be careful."

Enjolras nods. "Of course." 

Feuilly leans down and kisses him, his hands going to the small boy's hair. Enjolras makes a soft sound and yanks on his tie again.

The doorknob turns and Enjolras pulls away. 

Feuilly wipes his lips and says, "Okay, one more time."

Enjolras tries to play the sonata, too distracted by the heat pooling in his crotch.

His mother's hand snaps that away. 

He looks up at her. 

"Darling, your father is feeling ill. I think it would be best to end this session early."

Enjolras nods.

Feuilly starts to stand, straightening his tie. "I had a very nice time."

"Me too." Enjolras smiles. "Monsieur Feuilly is great with his hands, Mother."

Feuilly's cheeks turn red. 

"I'm sure he is, darling." 

"Should I walk Monsieur Feuilly to his car?" Enjolras asks, hopeful.

"I took the bus." Feuilly says quietly. "But I think that would be nice, kiddo."

Enjolras' mother smiles. 

Enjolras holds Feuilly's hand as they walk. He gives him a squeeze every now and then, looking at the ground.

"Baby?"

"Yessir?" Enjolras looks up.

Feuilly smiles and leans down. "I'll see you tomorrow. I love you." He kisses Enjolras' forehead. 

"I love you, too." The small boy says. 

The bus comes moments later and Feuilly runs to catch it. 

Enjolras watches until he's out of sight. He hurries home and closes the door quietly.

In his bedroom, he lies down. That's when he feels his phone buzz.

**jfc i just found out B**

**feuilly's ur piano instructor B**

**that's hot B**

**Whatever. E**

**:p it is. it's sexy when you take orders, baby. B**

**Thank you, Daddy. E**

**:) it's the truth, baby B**

**and i heard you like feuilly's tie. B**

**It's YOUR tie on Feuilly. E**

**either or. we share. B**

**Yes, I liked it. E**

**maybe we'll tie you up with it. B**

**baby? B**

**if you're jerking off, i want pictures. B**

**[image.jpg] E**

**shit. B**

**call me. B**

 

Enjolras fumbles to dial the phone, curling his fingers inside of him. He balances on his left elbow, keeping his ass up, and uses his left hand to steady the phone as his fingers reach deeper.

"Baby."

"D-daddy." Enjolras whispers.

"That's right, baby, your Daddy's here." Bahorel's voice is rugged and Enjolras can picture him wrapping his big hand around his thick cock. "Scissor your fingers."

Enjolras does, whimpering. "Daddy...it feels so good."

"I know, baby, I know." Bahorel breathes in slowly and lets it out after a moment. "Do it one more time for me?"

Enjolras lets out a soft sound as he does. He bites his pillow. 

"That's right, keep quiet. Don't get caught." 

Enjolras lets out a quiet noise in agreement. 

Bahorel swallows. "Alright, baby, try and make yourself come. Find your prostate." 

The small boy's soft fingertips brush inside of him as they reach deeper. Sparks shoot up his spine suddenly and he pushes there again, moaning lowly.

"There." Bahorel whispers through the reciever. "There we go."

"Daddy."

"Yeah, baby boy?"

"Daddy, more, more, more." Enjolras whines.

"Okay, baby, okay. Imagine I'm there with you." Bahorel breathes. "I love you. Just imagine it's my fingers."

"Y'rs're bigger." Enjolras mumbles.

Bahorel laughs softly. "That's true. Alright, let's play a game. We'll see who can come first."

Enjolras whines.

"It'll be fun, baby. Let's go."

Enjolras pushes his fingers deeper and groans into his pillow as Bahorel's breathing picks up. Those same sparks shoot through his body and he hears a little groan escape from Bahorel.

_"Enjolras."_

His eyes shut tight as he comes. "I win." He manages weakly as he pulls his fingers away.

Bahorel lets out a breathy laugh and after a few moments, groans again.

"And coming in at a close second..."

Enjolras rolls his eyes and shifts to lay on his stomach. "Hey. I miss you."

"I miss you, too, kid."

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Of course." He can hear Bahorel smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> chapter two will hopefully be up soon! follow me at claque-sous~!


End file.
